


Moon and Stars

by Lhugy_for_short



Series: A Song of Light and Demons (FFXV Game of Thrones AU) [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, For Promptio Week 2017, Game of Thrones AU, Gladio as Drogo, Khal and Khaleesi, M/M, Mentions of non-con, One Shot, PWP, Power bottom! Prompto, Prompto as Daenerys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 09:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11310105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: A foreign bride in a strange land, Prompto has little power and even less dignity to his name - until he decides to take back control from the Khal on his own terms. (Game of Thrones AU, Art included)





	Moon and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for Promptio Week Day 2: "Mythical Creatures"  
> It was originally just the art (hence dragons), but I decided it needed a little smut to go with the lack of plot lol

 

Outside the tent, the Dothraki camp had at last fallen quiet. It was a sign that the celebrations were over, the drinking and roaring after the day's hunt finally giving way to sleep in the early hours of the morning. It was a sign, too, that the khal would soon return to his bed. 

Prompto was waiting for him. He knew already the mood that the horse lord would be in, and what he would expect of his new bride. Usually there would be protests, Prompto fearing the pain and the roughness with which the barbaric king would take him, and eventually a struggle. Usually, the night would end with him on his knees, sobbing as he was used, fucked, broken in, and cast aside. Usually, but not that night. That night, Prompto was determined to take back his dignity. 

Khal Gladio was not a bad man, but he was rough, uncultured, and used to having to dominate in order to survive. So when he entered the tent that night, his broad, bare shoulders bathed in moonlight and his amber eyes hungry, it was all too clear what he was searching for. He found him; pale skin and blonde locks, wrapped in a white robe and sitting atop the woolen blankets of the bed. Prompto, his foreign bride, a beauty of the northern realm. Gladio met his sky-blue gaze and made a sound in his throat, somewhere between a huff and a growl, and started forward toward his prize. 

Yet the moment he put his hands on those soft shoulders to push him down, Prompto straightened his back and tightened his lips. "No," he said simply, and even the Dothraki king understood the meaning. 

"Yes," he snarled back in the pale man's foreign tongue. Once again he moved to push him down onto the mattress, face twisting when his efforts were met with more resistance. 

Prompto smiled then. "No," came his voice once more. But instead of pulling away, he slowly brought his hands up to wrap around Gladio's wrists. They were thick, firm, the skin dark and tough under his touch, as he let his fingers do the communicating for them. They stoked the khal's skin from his palms to the tattoos lacing his upper arms, rubbing, massaging, using his gentle caress to slowly draw Gladio's hands away from his body. 

It was clear the khal didn't understand, that he had never been touched so sweetly and wasn't sure how to react. And yet something in the way Prompto stared at him, his bright blue eyes never faltering and so full of promise, held him transfixed. Unable to resist, unable to break away, the strongest king in the history of the Dothraki race gave in to Prompto's will. 

The blonde's smile invited him closer. As if entranced, Gladio followed each silent command, climbing into the bed before his bride and resting back on his calves. Those soft fingers traced their way back down to his strong, thick hands, the hands of a warrior, and held them for a moment, testing, waiting. Still, Gladio didn't pull away. 

"I want...," Prompto began, his tongue faltering slightly with the harsh sounds of the unfamiliar Dothraki words. "I want to love you." There had been no word in their language for "make love" or even "passion," and as expected Gladio merely seemed confused by the strange phrase. 

"Why?" he asked in return. But his eyes were not harsh, and as he spoke he gently closed his fingers around Prompto's smaller hands. "You must hate me." 

"No," Prompto shook his head, his cheeks glowing in the dim light. "But I...want your heart." 

Gladio almost smirked as Prompto laid a hand atop his bare chest, fingers stroking lightly just above the spot where he could feel the khal's body beating with life. To the Dothraki, the heart was the source of everything -- one's soul, one's power, one's mind. The hearts of beasts were used for their powerful magic, and those of enemies were eaten by the victorious warriors in order that they may absorb a foe's strength. And yet, with the way Prompto was looking at him, was touching him with such tenderness and affection, Gladio understood that he meant something different entirely. 

The thought both amused and excited him, but it was when Prompto leaned forward to bring their lips together that Gladio found himself unable to think at all. 

He had never received such a thing -- what he would later learn was called a "kiss" in the common tongue -- but it was a powerful enough magic to take his breath away in an instant. Prompto's lips slid over his in a soft, wet caress, and he could taste him, could smell him, his senses suddenly overcome by that unusually confident mouth. Without thinking, he raised his arms to pull Prompto against him -- and was surprised when the slender man didn't resist. In fact, he seemed encouraged by the gentle embrace, making a soft, almost happy sound in his throat before lapping his tongue out over Gladio's lips as well. Catching on quickly, the khal opened his mouth to accept him. 

They kissed for as long as their bodies could bear to be patient, but soon Prompto could feel the other man's growing need, throbbing as it pressed against his thigh. Gladio, too, could sense the mounting tension. He tried again to lower Prompto down onto the sheets, and once more was refused. 

This time when he pulled away to face his bride, his gaze was questioning rather than angry. Surely Prompto was as eager as him? Indeed, beneath the thin fabric of his white robes his own body had been steadily reacting to the kiss, his cock now fully hard between his legs and leaking a small, wet spot into the cloth. His lust was clear, and yet...?

But Gladio didn't have to wait for an explanation. The moment his hands fell from Prompto's shoulders in defeat, he found himself being lowered to the mattress in his place. His head hit the pillow, and at first he nearly laughed when he thought he understood the blonde's intentions. But then Prompto was climbing onto him instead, carefully positioning his knees on either side of his body, and the amusement was wiped clean off the khal's face. Wonder replaced it, a sense of awe at the way Prompto's body moved so fluidly. The blonde's gaze locked with his, and then Prompto was rocking down against his hips, the bare skin beneath his robes sliding over the front of the khal's leather breeches and pulling a groan from his lips. Again and again, until Gladio couldn't think, couldn't speak, could only roll up to meet him and beg with his eyes. 

That was what Prompto had been waiting for. By the time he recognized that look, he was breathless and flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and he smiled with affection at the suddenly pliant king beneath him. "I want to touch," he said, nearly purring with his own need. Before Gladio had returned to the tent, Prompto had spent the night preparing himself, opening his own body with the scented oils he'd bought from the camp healer. His own fingers had felt good inside him, of course, and he'd been very thorough with his work, but the effort had already left him wanting. With his king's hot flesh pulsing so hard and thick beneath him, it was all he could do to remain patient enough to wait for permission. 

It was granted in the form of a silent nod. Prompto wasted no time as he reached down between their bodies and swiftly released Gladio from his clothing. The larger man pressed his head back into the pillows as those gentle fingers encircled his cock, and he groaned something that sounded suspiciously like Prompto's name. Encouraged, the blonde gave the length a few swift strokes, marveling at the flush of red across the khal's cheeks, before snatching up the vial of oil he'd tucked into the sheets. 

The scent of flowers filled the air as he poured some of the extract into his palm. He worked quickly now, his need outweighing his desire to prolong the conquest, and soon Gladio's heated cock was slick, glistening in the dim light. Amber eyes watched in amazement, in lust, as Prompto pulled back his robes to position himself once more. The head of Gladio's cock pressed against his entrance -- still tight despite his ministrations -- and they both gasped when the blonde sat back to take him inside. 

" _ A-aah...! _ " came Prompto's shuddering cry. There was pain, yes, but nothing like before. This was a pain he could control, could manage as he slowly, carefully slid down the khal's length. Even for a Dothraki, Gladio was an impressive size. The first time Prompto had been held down to take it, he’d been certain his body would split in two from the sheer girth of it forcing its way inside him. Yet now, using his own weight to control the speed, he was left breathless at how Gladio’s cock gradually filled him, his body adjusting to accept inch after inch. 

Beneath him, too, Gladio seemed to be overcome by wonder. He watched Prompto work as if enchanted, only his lips moving on occasion to release soft grunts and sighs of pleasure. So many times he had taken this slender, pale man in his bed, and yet in all his life he had never experienced anything as tender, and intimate, as what they shared now. As Prompto shivered and rocked his hips above him, Gladio thought that maybe, just maybe, there were some things his people could learn from the strange Northerners after all. 

Several moments passed in near silence, nothing but the slow creak of the pallet beneath them and barely audible gasps in the space between their bodies. Prompto took Gladio deeper inside him with every roll of his hips until at last his thighs were flush with the khal’s solid frame. Full,  _ so full, _ his mind spun and his heart fluttered at the sensation. When at last he managed to look down he saw amber eyes fixed on the point where their bodies met, wide and bright with feverish lust, utterly entranced. It was a sight Prompto could have never imagined possible -- a Dothraki king, the strongest warrior in the southern plains, flushed and begging with need. 

And...something else? When Gladio sensed that familiar blue gaze on him he cast his eyes up to meet it, and there -- _ yes, there _ \-- Prompto saw it. In the soft edges on his eyes, in the color tinting his cheeks, in the half-smile that spread slowly, reverently across his face. Love. He was in love, and the thought sent Prompto’s heart racing anew. 

“My moon,” the khal said quietly, voice somehow gentler than before. “My stars. My sky.” The words were strange, like nothing Prompto had ever heard in the horse-tribe’s language before. Soft words, deep words, spoken like an ancient chant filled with magic and meaning. As he listened, Prompto nearly forgot all else around him, his attention focused on the khal’s full lips swearing his undying love. 

He couldn’t help himself. Still filled with his husband’s heavy weight, Prompto drew his body down against the other’s until their chests were flush, and pulled him into another kiss. This time Gladio returned the act readily. He was a quick learner, mind as honed as his muscles, and his tongue moved between Prompto’s lips as easily as if he’d had years of experience. 

They held each other close, Gladio’s thick arms wrapped around Prompto’s waist, together swallowing down their shared gasps, moans, and sighs as their bodies resumed their dance. The pace quickened, both of them growing more desperate in their need for release. When Prompto's teeth raked against Gladio’s bottom lip, the Dothraki king growled and reached down to squeeze the soft mounds of the blonde’s ass even as he thrust up harder into him, nearly raising him off the bed with the force of it. Prompto answered by grinding his own leaking cock down into Gladio’s abs, shuddered, beginning to lose control.

It took only a few more thrusts before Gladio came, his orgasm hitting him like a stampede and knocking the breath from his lungs. He exploded, deep inside Prompto's warm, soft body, before falling back onto the blankets with a gasp. 

Prompto wasn't far behind. As soon as his khal's strong arms released him, the blonde sat up once more and took his cock into his trembling hand. A few short, rapid strokes had his skin flushing deep red and his muscles straining beneath. So close, he thought, his attention torn between his fingers flying over himself and the hot, thick flesh still filling him up from behind. In the end it was too much. He cried out as he came, threw his head back and spilled himself into his palm, his fingers to drip onto the flat planes of Gladio's stomach. His powerful orgasm seemed to last ages, until finally, shivering and breathless, he collapsed into his king's arms. 

The next thing he felt once his senses had returned were thick yet gentle fingers stroking through his hair. Prompto's eyes fluttered open, he looked up to see the piercing amber gaze of his husband watching him. Normally he would flinch from those eyes, but this time he met them evenly, calmly, drinking in the newfound warmth he saw there. 

With a smile, Gladio spoke. "Prompto," he whispered, addressing the beautiful man in his arms. "Thank you for this gift. I will treasure it and you, forever." 

At first, Prompto wasn't sure he had understood. The Dothraki language was still so strange to him, the words so unfamiliar. But then Gladio kissed him again and Prompto knew the meaning in his heart. From that night forward, he would no longer be a foreign prize, an object to warm the khal's bed -- he would be a khaleesi, and would rule at Gladio's side. 

Yet more than than, he had become Gladio's lover. His sun, his moon, and his sky, forever

 

**Author's Note:**

> Join me for more Promptio love at lhugbereth dot tumblr dot com


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